What a Birthday Present
by wishfuldreamer12
Summary: It's Canada's birthday and he's alone at the bar. He makes one simple wish and next thing he knows, France waltzs through the door. France sits right next to him and starts a normal conversation. Why can France see him all of the sudden? And why does France want to talk in private so badly? my first fanfic so be nice, though criticism is allowed. Real names used a few times!


Hola! I'm Dreamer! I looooooovvvvveeeeee Hetalia and I've been Ger/Ita for a long time, but one taste of Franada and I'm addicted! Hope you like my story…Flames are fine, so long as they aren't a bonfire, 'kay? Without further ado, I'll say my disclaimer and give you the story.

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and probably never will, so this is the closest I'll get._

Canada was used to being invisible. He didn't hate the people who didn't notice him. He gave up on hate ages ago, when he was a baby nation.

The invisibility came on more like stages than just one big wave. First, when Canada would try to speak, the others couldn't hear. Then, when his name was called for attendance at the world meetings,-though he called out- nobody would see anything in his chair. Then, the others would forget he was with them or not be able to see him at first. Eventually, they couldn't hear or see him.

Except for one.

As Canada chugged down the last of the wine bottle-completely out of character for the silent nation-, he couldn't help but sigh. He never did it that much, but he always did it on this day. It was his birthday. And nobody had congratulated him the whole day. Not that he blamed them. It wasn't their fault if they couldn't see him.

The Canadian was at an old bar at two in the morning, finishing off his third bottle of wine, slurring so bad he sounded like France, with nobody in sight. He sighed once more and put his head on the bar.

_Just for one night, _Matthew thought sadly, _I wish someone could see me._

He finally pulled his head off the counter and played with the delicate wine glass. His blond hair flew around his head as he whipped around to the sound of someone entering the building. A man with golden hair and warm eyes walked in, filling the building with the smell of roses and delicious wine. Though any other person would've been happy to see such a handsome man on their birthday, the Canadian just groaned. _Why _France_? Why is he here on my birthday? _But the thing that intrigued Matthew the most was that France didn't have some trampy girl giggling on his arm. He was alone. And heading straight for the bar.

You might be thinking 'How does Canada know what France is like if France can't see or talk to him?' well, the answer is quiet simple. Though he never talked to France, he'd heard things about the queer (A/N Different, not gay….though he kinda is in this story) nation from the gossip all the others whispered when France wasn't in the room. It almost made Matthew sympathize for the nation just because everybody talked about him like he was some kind of man whore.

While Matthew was thinking this, France had practically glided across the room and sat in the chair right next to him. At first the Canadian was surprised, but then quickly brushed it off as a coincidence.

"One wine glass of whatever he's got and another for him." His voice was sweet and practically dripping honey. Canada was so enticed by the voice that he didn't realize what it had said until the wine glass was filled. He instantly sobered up from the sheer shock of somebody noticing him. Canada looked up at France and was amazed to see France looking right at him.

"Cheers, Mattieu." Francis tipped the glass back and drank it. Matthew was so shocked that he didn't answer back or sip the wine. When Francis noticed Matthieu's look, he raised an eyebrow. Matthew quickly glanced away and played with the full wine glass again, this time a little more fidgety. "Something wrong, Mattieu? Do you want something else? Something stronger? Maybe something lighter?"

"N-No it-it's fine." With that, Matthew tipped the glass back as well and gulped down the sinful drink.

"So, why are you here alone, Mattieu?" France asked as he continued to look at the Canadian.

"I could ask you the same." He mumbled and fell silent. He was about to think the Frenchman didn't hear him, when he heard Francis sigh bitterly.

"It is true, I'm here alone. Tonight I feel like I should be in no one's company, but yours. Strange, huh? I can't quite explain it myself but it feels like I was drawn here and then I saw you sitting with your head on the bar and thought you needed a little pick-me-up. But you've avoided my question. Why are you here alone, Mattieu?"

Matthew was in shock. France just suddenly had an urge to walk in to this hotel and could suddenly see him. Sounded a little strange, but Matthew quickly came up with one idea. _Maybe my wish came true_. He quickly shook his head. _That's silly. He probably came in here looking for someone else or just a place to drink and saw me. Wait. He _saw_ me. _That single fact made everything click into place. Nobody could see him. And on the night he just so happens to wish for someone to see him, France walks in and talks to him. Matthew looked at the now confused Frenchman in awe. _What a birthday present._ Then, he looked at France once again. _What a birthday present. With the wrong present carrier. _Mathew knew that it wasn't the wish's, nor his own, nor France's fault that it was France who could see him. He just had to accept it and enjoy what he had. That's when he noticed that France was still waiting for his answer. "O-oh, I'm just trying to clear up my mind…And why should you care? You've never talked to me before." Not that it was his fault. Nobody ever talks to Matthew.

"I've never noticed how sad you look alone." France answered immediately, almost robotically. I guess once a flirt, always a flirt. But France clears his throat. "I mean, I've never really gotten to talk to you so I thought today might be a nice change of pace."

"Pace in what?" Matthew couldn't understand the slight pass the Frenchman was making.

"Uh…," Francis glanced at the bartender and looked back at Matthew. "How about we discuss this somewhere a little more private?"

"Fine. One second." Matthew turned to the bartender, ordered a whiskey, waited with a blank expression. _Might as well go with the stupid Frenchman. God knows he won't stop until I come with. And I might as well be so tipsy that I forget whatever he says tonight. It could at least have been someone nice like...Sealand. Sealand's nice and since nobody really cares about him, we're practically in the same boat. But no, I'm stuck with..._him.

Once Matthew had emptied the glass, he stood up and grabbed Francis' outstretched hand. The Frenchman led them to the elevator and touched a high numbered button. With a simple smile, France answered Matthew's unspoken question.

"I got a suite when I saw you. Just in case we had some private time together." France's smile shifted from simple to seductive in seconds.

They waited in silence, Matthew too afraid to ask what France meant when he said private time and France divulging in Matthew's every emotion. Finally, the doors opened and France led Matthew through the corridors. He stopped in front of a honeymoon suite and unlocked the door. Matthew walked in and plopped on the giant bead with a sigh. He watched France closely as he lingered by the door.

"What do you want, France? Tell me what you need to and let me leave. I'm not in the mood for games tonight." Matthew demanded and he watched France chuckle darkly.

"Maybe I can change that, hm, ma chèrie?" France mumbled darkly and closed the door silently.

Matthew groaned as the morning sun filtered through the small crack in the curtains. He started to sit up, but felt an arm restrict him. He trailed down the the bare arm wrapped around his waist, their hands interlocked. The owner of the arm was none other than France. Matthew's stomach dropped. What had he done?!

After a few moments of breathing, Matthew remembered the events of last night. France had closed the door, hopped on the bed, pushed Matthew down, and began with...unspeakable doings. Somewhere during their...unspeakable doings, Matthew had an epiphony. France was not at all a bad present. He was...different from the person Matthew thought he was at first.

Of course to others it would seem like France was doing exactly what all the others said he did, but the whole entire time, France whispered sweet words of love in Matthew's ear. And soon, Matthew realized that France was alot like himself. Nobody cared about the real France, they only cared about the skanky one that couldn't remember half the things it did, it was so drunk. But the real France was someone that only Matthew could see. And France was the only one who could see Matthew. And Matthew loved that it was France.

Matthew loved France.

And, knowing this was only for a night, Matthew couldn't stay. The wish was the thing that brought this random love and the wish is thing that'll take it away._ I only wished for a night. Not an eternity._ Matthew quickly weaved out of the Frenchman's comfortable arms, noting that they were both naked, and started silently picking up his own articles of clothing. He felt tears brim his eyes as he got dressed. He watched his sleeping lover smile camly as he stood fully clothed, and ready to leave. _Goodbye, ma chèrie. I hope to find this love again, except next time, it will be for eternity._

Matthew turned away quickly, not wanting to waste tears on a love that could never be remembered. He headed towards the door and gripped the doorknob tightly.

Just as he was about to turn it and run out the door, he heard the sweetest voice ever mumble softly, "Mattieu." Matthew turned back around in shock and dashed back to the bedroom. France was still asleep, but was flailing his arms in desperation around Matthew's side. "Mattieu, why...have you left...am...I...not good...enough?" France mumbled sadly.

"You're enough, but I'm not. This isn't meant to be, ma chèrie. You will never see me again, but I will always be watching you. Remember that, please." Matthew felt his tears fall out of his eyes and drip onto his shirt. He fell to his knees next to France's side of the bed and buried his face in his hands. As he cried, he felt arms reach out and grab him. With a yelp, the Canadian was lifted off his knees, pulled up on the bed, and laid onto France's chest. "Wha-What?" Matthew looked up to lock eyes with Francis' blue ones.

"If I'm enough, than you are too much, Mon amour. And why would I, your lover, never see you again?" His face was serious, but filled with love and confusion.

"B-Because n-nobody c-can see me a-and yo-you'll forget all a-about me in no-no time!" Matthew's tears gurgled his voice and made it barely audible.

"But, my dear Mattieu, why in the world would I forget someone as special as you?" Francis was extremely confused by the strange things his Mattieu was saying.

"Be-Because this is all j-just because o-of the w-wish! A-and now I-I have t-to leave before y-you forget me and b-break my heart!" Matthew sobbed in France's shirt, despite his words.

They staid like that until Matthew's cries became softer, which took several hours. _He must not be able to see me anymore. The wish must've worn off by now. I still don't know why or how he could see me in the morning, but I know he definitely can't see me now. _Matthew lifted his eyes, planning on slipping out from France's, but France's cool eyes locked onto Matthew's. Matthew gulped.

"Need something, Mon amour?" Francis asked seductively.

"I-I….." Matthew stuttered.

"Because I have to tell you something." France sat up, hugged Matthew onto his lap, and slipped his lips to Matthew's ear. "Je t'aime. Je t'aimerai toujours."

"Uh…." Matthew was at a lost. He never knew if the Frenchman would have the same epiphany as himself, or be able to see and hear him. Bu when he heard those words, his heart pounded to a light rhythm that matched to France's.

France's face fell at the Canadian's hesitation. He didn't think Canada would return his feelings immediately, but he knew the nation held some form of love for him.

Just as France was about to say something, Canada threw his arms around the Frenchman's neck. "Je t'aime! Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime!"

They both fell back onto the bed, with Canada on top again, with soft chuckles and blushing faces. For the rest of the day, they lay like that, chattering about useless things and funny stories. Soon, their eyes drooped close as sleep tugged them into a mid-day nap. But before they could both walk through sweet dreams, Matthew spoke up.

"If we go to sleep, do you promise to wake up and still see me?"

France chuckled and kissed Matthew's hair. "Forget a wonderful creature like you, Mattieu? That's like saying a bird can forget about the sky."

They quickly fell asleep with sweet smiles on their face. And just before Matthew fell asleep, he looked up at France with love.

_What a birthday present._

And that's my story! I know it's nowhere near Canada's birthday, but this is just an idea I couldn't let go of! And this is my first _ever_ fanfic so any criticism would be nice, so long as they don't make me cry…..Thanks for reading!

-Dreamer

_Je t'aime. Je t'aimerai toujours_- I love you. I always will.

_Je t'aime_-I love you.


End file.
